


That Fuckin' Punk

by Kuronrko98, sanwamchester



Series: Lady and the Tramp [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Altered Universe, Amnesia, Angels, Demons, F/F, Other, Please Don't Hate Me, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuronrko98/pseuds/Kuronrko98, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanwamchester/pseuds/sanwamchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alyssa Showman meets a spunky hunter in a crowded bar. What starts as a night of fun turns into the most confusing time of either girls' life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

     I can’t believe this. I’m not sure if they’re just incompetent or if they’ve finally caught on to the fact that I need to get away. I wonder if there are warning signs the new ones are briefed in. In any case, slipping away was easier today than any day before. Idiots.

     I’ve heard good things about tonight’s destination. It’s a bar, so that’s new. Of course, it’s not the first new thing I’ve done recently, so it’s not that big of a deal. I tug my too-large hoodie at the hem, trying to steel my nerves. Patting my pocket to make sure I brought ‘my’ I.D., I stride toward the door.

     Understandably, the bouncer steps between me and the door. I pull the I.D. out of my pocket and flash it at him, rolling my eyes for added effect. He glances over me. “You don’t look 24.”

     I shrug stiffly, nodding. “I get that often.”

     He hesitates a moment before stepping aside. “Whatever. Go on ahead.” I push through the door before letting any fear show. I’m still getting used to that. Okay, now what? What do people do in bars anyway? I look around, finding an empty stool at the counter. The bartender asks what I’ll have and I tell him to surprise me. I can afford it. Let’s see if I can survive alcohol.

     Someone jabs my arm, with what I assume is their elbow, and I swivel my stool around to see them. Oh. I try to swivel back, away from the very shady man in the seat beside me, but he grabs my shoulder and keeps me facing toward him.

     “‘Eyyyy!” He slurs. Very drunk. I laugh nervously and brush his hand from me, turning back toward the bar. “I’ve seen you’se before,,” He says, leaning closer. I shake my head.

     “I really don’t think you have.”

     He frowns and sways, his eyes narrowing, unfocusing and refocusing. It’s pretty unsettling. “No, yeah, I ‘ave.” He slides his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve seen you’se lots.” I lean away from him, trying to get him off, but he moves with me. “Where’re y-”

     Suddenly he’s on the floor, a girl standing over him. “Dude. She’s obviously not interested, you prick. Back off.” She swings around and plops herself down in the seat the man previously occupied. The other people in the bar quickly resume their own business as the man scurries out of the building. “So,” The girl laces her fingers together and rests her chin on them. “It’s my first night in town, what’s it like here?”

     I open my mouth to speak, but the bartender sets my drink on the bar in front of me. She raises an eyebrow. “ _You_ ordered _that_?” She seems more than a little surprised. “You don’t look like a heavy drinker to me.”

     “I’ve never been here before.” I look away, fixing a stare on the drink. “I didn’t know what to get. Thank you, by the way.” I inhale quickly before grabbing the drink and downing it. Or, I halfway down it. I choke halfway through, coughing. The bottom of the glass finds its way to the surface of the bar, exactly where it belongs. My throat burns and my eyes water. “Oh my god,,” I croak. “What _was_ that?”

     The girl next to me is cracking up. “Holy shit. You just tried to drink whiskey. You’ve never had a drink before, have you?”

     I give her a dirty look before raising the glass again and forcing the rest of the drink down my throat. “No,” I rasp. “I’m not sure if I want to have any more drinks after that.” I return the glass to the bar and push it away. “That was terrible.”

     “Of fucking course it was terrible. You gotta build up to heavy shit like that, you can’t just jump up to it right away.” She leans back and gazes at me with a grin. “Am I gonna have to teach you how to drink?”

     “You do not _have_ to do anything,” I mutter, glowering at her. She snickers. “What?”

     “You sound like someone I know.” She leans forward again. “The way you talk, it’s pretty formal.”

     “I know.” I tap the edge of the glass before me. “I know. It’s not my fault.”

     She beckons the bartender over and whispers something in his ear before turning her attention back to me. “Of course it’s not. I never said it was.”

     “What was that?”

     She shakes her head. “Oh, nothing. You’ll figure it out. It doesn’t matter. What are you doing here?”

     I shrug. “I’m here. Does it really matter?”

     “Not really.” She looks up as the bartender sets two drinks down and slides one into my hand. “Try that one. It should be better.”

     I study the new glass, containing a bright, flowery drink. “I don’t know.”

     “Just talk to me, then.” She takes a drink from her own cup. “I’m Mickey, by the way.”

     “Alyssa.” I find myself taking a drink. It’s sweet. Like melons. “That is much better. Thank you.”

     “No problem.” She hums softly, taking a long draw from her glass. “A little weak for my taste, but you need to start small.”

     I laugh, taking another drink. “No more of that whiskey for me, then?”

     “Oh, god, no.” She shakes her head. “No. Not for a while.” She alerts the bartender once again, pointing at the menu. He nods and starts working on a new cocktail. I suck the drink down, eager to learn the in’s and out’s of drinking.

     Oh, wait. Alcohol does something to your senses, doesn’t it? I can feel it, I think. To be honest, I felt it since that first drink. I’m not sure I like it. I shake my head. “I don’t think I want another one.”

     She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

     “Yes. Really. I don’t want to lose my reason tonight.”

     She studies me, stirring the remnants of her last drink lazily. “Wait.” Her eyes widen. “Holy shit. Did you say _Alyssa_? As in Alyssa _Showman_?” I freeze, the straw of my drink halfway to my lips. Oh no. She takes my drink, sets it down, and turns me to face her completely. “I knew you looked familiar. Your face is everywhere, what the hell are you doing here?”

     “No.” I shake my head roughly. “Please, keep it down. Also, no, my face isn’t everywhere. My parents’ faces are everywhere.” I look her directly in the eye. “I am not them. I refuse to be locked in my home without any normal influences in my life.” I force myself back around, facing the bar again, just in time for a new duo of cocktail to be set in front of us. “I’m just a kid.”

     “A kid whose parents own half of America,” She mutters, pulling the straw out of her new drink and downing the whole thing. “I’m drinking with Alyssa fucking Showman. You’d better pay for the damn drinks.”

     I scoff and push a small roll of cash towards her. “That should cover it, along with any wasted time I’ve cost you.” I stand and smooth my skirt out. “It was nice meeting you, Mickey, but I should probably be leaving.”

     I walk away, trying to ignore her shocked reaction. It’s understandable, considering I just gave her what probably added up to more than $300. I’m out the door before she finishes counting it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When pursued into an alleyway, Alyssa is offered an experience she couldn't possibly turn down.

     My fists are clenched, walking out. I shouldn’t have told her my name. Why did I do that? Of course she recognized me, it’s not like I’m invisible. It’s way too hot out here, so I tussle my way out of the hoodie, giving my arms some freedom. Now showing is the outfit that was chosen for me today. A dark corset holds me together, while a thin jacket covers my shoulders and gloves keep the rest of my arms from being seen. Wearing this, I would have been recognized instantly.

     “Hey!” A familiar voice calls out. Oh, god, it’s her. I didn’t think she would follow me this quickly. I haven’t gotten far enough away, and I can’t run in this outfit. I glance around and, catching sight of a narrow alleyway, turn sharply. Maybe there will be somewhere to hide down here.

     As luck would have it, there isn’t. I panic, searching wildly for somewhere to hide. I see another turn at the end of the passage. I take a step forward, but I’m stopped short by a powerful force pushing me against the wall.

     “You think you can just do that?” She whispers in my ear before letting go of me. She steps back and runs a hand through her hair. “Sorry, that was shitty. But you gotta chill out.” The stare she gives me is almost unsettling.

     “What?” I mutter, crossing my arms.

     “Are you absolutely crazy?” She takes my hoodie and looks me over. “You can’t just walk around at night like that. There are crazy assholes out here, what’s wrong with you?” She growls, shoving the hoodie back into my arms. She runs her fingers through her hair again, looking away. “Fuck, just wait till they hear about this.”

     I hug the sweater to my chest, suddenly self conscious. She looks back up at me. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” Oh, god, she’s really pretty. I have no idea why that just occurred to me, but that thought fills my mind, watching her pace and watch me. Wait, I’m supposed to say something now, right?

     “I just want to go home,” I blurt. Where did that come from? “Wait, no, I don’t. I want to go probably anywhere but home.” I shift my feet uncomfortably. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

     “I was literally about to ask you the same thing.” She stops pacing, chewing at a fingernail. It seems as though she’s figuring something out. She groans, “Oh, what the hell.” She takes a step forward.

     Oh. Oh, okay. I’m okay with that. Other than those phrases, my mind is mostly blank, focusing on the fact that Mickey is kissing me. My eyes slide closed, and as it continues, she slides steadily closer until she has an arm on either side of me, boxing me against the wall with her body against mine. My arms hang limply by my sides.

     After a few moments, I remember where I am. My eyes fly open and I shove her away, as much as it pains me to do so. I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath. Without my knowledge, my hand has risen up to touch my mouth.

     It’s not as though it was my first kiss. I'd like to believe that I’ve become rather adept in that skill, starting with my first outing. No, the problem is, I don’t particularly like the idea of making out in an alley next to a bar.

     Once I’ve finished calming myself, I stand straight up. Mickey, leaning against the opposite wall, is giving me something between a glare and a curious stare. I’m not sure whether I should cower or speak. She pushes herself off the wall and bends down a little to look me in the eyes.

     “Sorry.” She says, still studying my face. “I’m assuming that wasn’t an okay thing for you?”

     I frown deeply. “No! I mean,” I pause, collecting my thoughts. “That was an ‘okay thing’ for me. Just,” I shrug, “not here.”

     She straightens up. “Oh,” She repeats herself, drawing it out this time. She pinches the bridge of her nose, screwing her eyes shut. “What now, then?”

     I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘what now’?

     She opens her eyes and rests her hands on my shoulders with a small sigh. “I _mean_ , what do you want to do now? If you want to, we could go and get back to it somewhere else. If not,” She shrugs, pulling away. “I could walk you home. It’s probably not all that safe here at night.”

     I blank. “Where else could we go?”

     She brightens slightly. “I have a motel, just a couple blocks down. I’m sharing it with a couple people, but I could get us some time alone?”

     Alone. This is a time to be to the point. “Are you asking to have sex with me, Mickey?”

     She stares at me, silent long enough to be uncomfortable. Was it supposed to be an obvious offer without saying so? “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

     “Oh, my goodness.” I bounce on the balls of my feet, and Mickey seems a little taken aback. “How far is the motel? Let’s go.”

     “Wait, hang on, are you a virgin? You’re 17, right?” She stares again, obviously concerned. Is the fact that I’m a virgin really such a big deal?

     “Yes, and yes. Let’s go,” I repeat, pulling on the sleeve of her sweater.

     She grins, stepping out of the alley and taking the lead. “It would be a goddamn honor to help fix that, _Miss Showman_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go! The ball is rolling! I will be posting every Tuesday from here on out, and I am super excited continuing on through this story! It's super super short, and I'm sorry for that.


	3. Chapter 3

    We reach a run down motel about 5 blocks away from the alley, and she stops me in front of a door. She steps in front of me and tells me to stay right here while she goes and talks to ‘The Guys’. Odd. I pick at paint on a wooden pole while I wait. I hear a voice behind the door, it sounds like someone yelling “Who?”

  
    The blinds are parted for a second and there are more hurried voices from the room. The door opens, and out step the tallest people I have ever met in my entire life. One, the taller one, hangs back in the doorway while the shorter (cuter) one, I think this is the one who looked out the window, steps outside and sizes me up. He still towers over me, probably a foot over my head. 

    “Oh my god. You are huge,” I squeak, leaning to look past them both at Mickey in the room. She isn’t all that short either, but nowhere near either of them. I have no idea what to do. The man in front of me cracks a smile.

    He turns back to Mickey and points at me. “ _This_ is Alyssa Showman?”

    The taller one nods. “Yeah, it is, Dean. That’s definitely her.”

    The first one, Dean, turns back and gives me a skeptical look. “Looks like we’ve got a celebrity in the house.”

    Mickey comes out and pushes him aside. “Fuck off, you said you would go. You got shit to do, we got shit to do.” She glares at them. “Fair trade.”

    Dean shrugs. “Come on, Sammy,” he says, walking towards a shiny black car.

    The moment The Behemoth crosses the threshold, Mickey grabs my arm and pulls me inside. The door slams right when we make it inside, Mickey looking out the window to watch them leave. She turns around and sits on the desk below the window. “So.” She leans forward, looking me over. “Now what?”

    I fiddle with the ruffles at the bottom of my corset, unsure. I remain silent for a moment before looking up with a challenging stare. “Surprise me.” I close the distance between us and tangle my fingers in her hair before our lips even meet. This, I can do. She wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me closer. We break for less than a second for breath, and we flip, backing me against the desk now. She fumbles around the back of my corset and pulls away.

    “Holy shit, how does this fucker work?” She breathes, her brows furrowed. I push her back and turn around.

    “The back, it, um.” I try to stay focused. “Unlace it.”

    “Yeah, I get that bit, but what the fuck are you wearing this for?” She mutters, pulling at the strings. “At least hookers wear sensible clothes, what’s your excuse?”

    I shrug. “It’s not like I picked it out,” I reply, my voice bouncing around with every tug.

    “Shit, I think I tangled it.”

    I step away from the desk, trying to reach around to my back. “You _what?_ ” I turn on her, my voice rising. “How did you manage that?” I freeze when my eyes land on a wall with newspaper clippings and throngs of other unsettling papers on it. “What is that?”

    Mickey rushes over, something in her hand. “I’ll explain all that later. For now, try not to kill me.”

    “Wh-” I’m cut off by the feeling of cold metal sliding along my back and a loud ‘snip’. I can almost feel the blood draining from my face. I swirl around, about to yell, but the movement causes the remnants of the corset to fall from my body, leaving my top half completely uncovered. I end up frozen with my hand in the air and my mouth open, not quite sure where to go from here.

    I’m not particularly uncomfortable with people seeing my body, having been dressed by others my entire life, but this is a completely new situation to lose something like my shirt. Not a bad time, but that was my favorite corset.

    Apparently my shock was funny, as Mickey is doubled over laughing. I slowly lower my hand, watching her laugh. “Oh my _god_. Your face! That was great.” She wipes a tear from her eye as her giggles slow down. “For a second, you actually looked like you were gonna punch me.”

    I muster up the angriest face I can, crossing my arms. She stops laughing. “Wait, you weren't going to, were y-” I grin and lunge forward, tussling that oversized sweater off of her. Predictably, she’s wearing something under it, but I quickly pull the tank top off as well.

    On the ground now, straddling her, I lean forward, my forehead almost touching hers. “There, now we’re even,” I state simply. “Your clothes are very easy to remove.”

    “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

    I huff in annoyance. “It’s a safety risk.”

    She rolls her eyes. “Oh, shut up,” she mutters, flipping to take her place on top of me instead. The lovely, lovely kissing match begins again, this time with a much higher intensity. Mickey’s mouth leaves mine, and I almost complain before being silenced by a different sensation on my neck. She moans deeply, and I inhale sharply when she starts lightly biting the soft skin. 

    She stops, and I try to complain but all that comes out is a distressed moan. I think she just said something? I lift my head a bit, “Mm?”

    She laughs at me, but I can’t summon enough anger to even pretend to be offended. “Get up and go to the _bed_ ,” she says, “It’s better.” She stands, pulling me up with her. Before I’m even up all the way, she returns to my neck, quite a bit lower now. The back of my legs hit the edge of the bed, causing us both to fall and Mickey to bite my collarbone. She utters a soft apology and moves her attention between our lips once again, but I’m too busy snaking a hand down to attempt unbuckling her belt to focus on words. She smiles against my lips and does it herself, pulling the belt away with a snap.

    With this done, she begins moving her kisses lower, and I try to tug her pants off. There are too many clothes in this equation. A bite to my neck brings a wave of pleasure through me. I moan as she does the same, my fingers pressing into her back. I’m completely out of breath, I never want this to end.

    “God, is this what I’ve been missing?” I gasp breathlessly. She laughs in response and continues her slow path of kisses down my stomach, causing my back to arch.

    “You’ve been missing _a lot_ more than this, Showman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is what happens when I try to write smut scenes. Both Brennan and I were very, very nervous about writing it. Mostly because we were worried that we would mess up and it would be terrible. I'm planning on practicing my writing for it, so later there will be better smut scenes. Promise!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after gets complicated when Alyssa becomes concerned about the evidence wall.

     It’s the light that wakes me up. It’s always the light. It takes until I realize that there’s someone laying next to me to remember that I’m not at home. It’s morning, and I’m not at home. Either me or my guards are going to be in a lot of trouble. Probably the latter.

     I groan, dragging myself off of the bed. Damn, that was a pretty great night, but where are my clothes? Before I actually start searching, I look down at Mickey. Yeah. Pretty great. Time to find my stuff. My tights are in the corner, so I grab them and pull them on. Where did my skirt go?

     I eventually find it, nearly underneath the bed. That’s as much as I can do at this point, since that lowlife on the bed ruined my corset. I mean that in the very _best_ way possible. If I could, I would jump right in that bed with her again, but I can’t. I don’t want to wake her up, yet, though. That’s something I need to do, borrow a shirt. Since I seem to have dropped the hoodie I was wearing, either in the alleyway or on the way here.

     While I wait, I drift over to a weird change in the otherwise normal room. That one wall. Before, I only noticed what look like newspaper clippings, but it’s much stranger than that. There are also pictures, drawings, of an almost terrifying creature. I try to ignore those, only focusing on the papers. Murders and disappearances litter the wall.

     Who exactly are these people? Murderers? Oh, god, they probably are. And I’m in their room, I’ve seen them. Oh, no, this is what the guards were protecting me from, isn’t it? I step away from the wall, holding my head in my hands.

     Wait. If they wanted to kill me, they would have done it already, right?

     I take a deep breath and stand up straight. I might as well give her a chance to explain it. If I have to run out of the motel topless, I will. In the three steps it takes to get to the occupied bed, I steel myself. “Hey.” I shove Mickey until she wakes up with a groan. “Who the hell are you and your friends anyway?” She sits up groggily, so I move back toward the wall to wait.

     “Shit.” I hear her mutter, walking over to join me. “We’re just fucking people. Calm down.”

     I sigh. “Okay, cut the crap.” She stares at me, almost like she can’t believe what she just heard. “Normal people don’t have things like this on their walls. Do you have any clue how terrible this looks? First conclusion: you guys are crazy murderers, and I’m right in the middle of your motel room!” I look away from her, staring at the wall. “But I don’t know. I don’t get that kind of vibe from you.”

     Silence reigns for at least a minute. Then, “Goddamn it.” I turn my head to see her hands covering her face. “Fuck, I don’t have a choice, do I?” She grabs my arm and has me sit in the desk chair. She pulls one of the drawings of the creature off of the wall, holding it up for me to see. “Okay, so you see this? It doesn’t matter what it is, but it’s real, and it’s what I do. Hunting and killing shit like this.” She drops the picture, kneels down, and grabs my shoulders. “You need to understand, that me? And my friends? We’re the good guys. And I hope to every-fucking-thing that you believe me, because I am not going to jail.” She searches my face while I process.

     For some reason, I feel like I’m going to be sick. It’s deep, deep down. I close my eyes to try and identify it, but all it really adds up to is sick. The news of creatures of the night being real isn’t really too hard to deal with, why shouldn’t there be things like that in the world? No, this is deeper, down to my very core. My head hurts.

     I swallow my sudden discomfort down. “Okay.”

     “Okay?” She shakes her head like she was expecting more. “Okay, what?”

     I shrug. “There are a lot of things I don’t know. I guess this is one of them.” She stands, incredulous.

     “You are incredible. I was expecting more, I don’t know, disbelief? Shock? Something?”

     I raise an eyebrow and continue in a monotone. “‘Oh, no, of course there aren’t monsters. Why would I, a 17 year old shut-in, possibly believe you about the same monster obviously drawn multiple times by multiple people?’” I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “Something like that?”

     She stares at me. “Holy shit. Who are you and what did you do with Alyssa?”

     Oh no. “Oh, god, what time is it?” I stand and peek out the blinds. “Oh no, oh no. I need to go home.”

     Mickey laughs and looks me over. “Not like that, you don’t. Hang on, let me grab you a shirt.” She jogs over to a small duffle bag next to the far wall, digging through it. I follow her as she pulls out a shirt and holds it up, studying it. “This one should work. Here.”

     I take it, pulling it on. It’s not ideal, but it should work. “Thank you.”

     She stands, heading toward the door. “I’m expecting to get that back, so you’d better not get too attached to it.” I nod, trailing behind her. “I’m not gonna make you walk back to your, most likely huge, house by yourself, so come on.”

     We leave the room, and I think this is a good time to tell her that I live on the edge of the city. She groans and pulls her phone out. “There’s no fucking way we’re walking that far.” She steps away and talks into the phone. “Hey, Dean. I got a spoiled little rich girl that I need to get home, and she needs a ride.” She continues walking away until I can’t hear her as well, so I lean against the wall to wait.

     After a few minutes, she comes back over and stands next to me. “It’s gonna be really fucking annoying to have to explain this to them,” she huffs. “We aren’t really supposed to tell anyone, especially not people like you.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?” I mutter.

     “You know damn well. You have power, and you know it.”

     I shake my head. “I don’t, compared to the company shareholders. They’re the ones that everyone should be interested in. I’m just supposed to stand pretty for the cameras. I’m a marketing technique, nothing else.”

     She nudges my shoulder with hers. “Hey, you’re almost 18. You can get the fuck outta there the second that happens, right?”

     “Maybe.” The men from the night before pull up before much more can be said. Mickey grabs my arm and drags me to the car. We get in, the car starts (along with some alarmingly loud music), and we start moving.

     Dean, the one in driver’s seat glances back. “So.” He turns the music down. “I thought most rich kids got cars and money, not a life sentence.”

     “Dean,” the other one hisses.

     “What? Chill out, Sam, I’m just making conversation.”

     I clear my throat. “There’s obviously more than one type of rich kid.” I take a look out the window and see a car pulling out of a gas station. One of my family’s cars. “They’re looking for me,” I note.

     “Hello.”

     A sudden weight pressing against me pushes me to the side of the seat. I’m really starting to want to get out of this car. There is surplus of tan fabric to my left, belonging to another huge person. Is there some kind of factory making giant people? Where did this one come from? I’m going to try and _not_ think about the fact that he appeared out of nowhere.

     The owner of the new voice and the tan coat looks down at me. “Oh? What is this?” He looks very confused. The other occupants of the car give greetings, all of them referring to him as Cas. He continues staring at me, so I look away. What is going on? He shifts, and I glance back. He’s now leaning towards the front, regarding Dean. “You have something in your backseat.”

     “I know, Cas. We’re dealing with it,” he replies through clenched teeth. He pulls the car over and turns to talk to me. “Is there any way we can convince you that he’s been here the whole time?” I shrug and look out the window.

     The sickness is back, Oh, no, I don’t want to puke in here. I need to hurry this along so I can get home and talk to someone about this. “I might as well tell you now, so you’ll stop skirting around it,” The air is stagnant in the car and Dean nods slowly, shooting an angry look at Mickey. “I don’t care.” I ignore Dean’s scoff and turn to Cas. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alyssa.”

     He nods, still giving me a confused look, “I know.” and turns away. The car is started once again, and we speed on to the Showman Family Manor. It’s not the largest home in the world, I’m sure, but it is pretty substantial. The front gate alone keeps us separate from the rest of Vancouver. It’s not hard to get out through this gate, but getting in is much harder. You need to have an appointment.

     Dean drives slowly up the path to the gate, muttering the whole way about crazy rich people and the longest driveway he’s ever seen. When he pulls up to the gate, he speaks up. “Okay, this is where you get out.” I nod.

     “Thank you, for the ride.” I smile and dip my head at them. I raise a finger to my lips and wink. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

     I watch the car leave, waiting until they are out of sight before stumbling over to the buzzer. My vision is, if I want to explain it correctly, swimming now. I lean against the edge of the gate and press the speaker button. “I’m home.”

     I barely even finish talking before the gate opens, several workers from the house spilling from the manor doors a few dozen feet away. I try to rush forward, but the strange sickness finally catches up with me, expelling itself in the form of vomit on the paved path. I fall to my knees, stunned. What brought this on?

The small group of workers crowd around me as I let myself fall on my side, exhausted. Someone picks me up, and I let my eyes slip shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the delay! I was sick the Tuesday before last and last Tuesday I was, like, dead. I have about 4 more chapters completed, and I will try to keep at least 2 chapters ahead of the updates so there aren't any long gaps!


	5. Chapter 5

     I’m not exactly sure where I am. It’s dark, and it’s insanely hot. I can almost hear whispers, coming from everywhere. My head is pounding, the pain pulsing, spreading through my veins like fire. I try to scream, but all I can do is choke on the heat and the fear.

     A sudden landing knocks the remaining air from my lungs and I struggle to escape from the fabric entangling me. I finally find a hole and stick my head out, taking a huge breath to greet the clear air beyond. I rolled off the bed, mid-dream. When did I get back into my bed? I run through the most recent sequence of events, my memory blanking out just as I arrived at the manor.

     Oh. Right. I stand, shedding the blanket as I do so. I wince at the headache behind my eyes. The soft material of my nightgown clings to the remaining blanket wrapped around my legs. Stepping away from the material to a stack of folded clothing on my nightstand. Comfortable clothing, I can easily dress myself today. Next to the clothes is a folded square of paper. I lift it up and read it.

     “We need to see to you. Meet us in the second floor lounge.”

     Looks like I’m actually in trouble this time. Not exactly shocking, considering I was out of the house for the whole night. I don’t even really know what time I got back. Maybe they’re just worried, not mad. Oh, well, I’d better head down.

     I wrestle myself into the sundress and stockings, and the stinging pain in my brain spikes whenever I move. Slipping my flats on, I exit the room to find my parents. They came home for this. I thought they were on the other side of the country? How long is that flight? 5 hours? More? They definitely wouldn’t have left whatever they were doing in D.C. just for this. That means they finished their business before coming back. How long have I been asleep? I puzzle over it for a moment before realizing that I’m standing in front of the door to the lounge.

     I take a breath and push the heavy door open. A conversation in the room stops, the two occupants turning to face me. Whoa. I was half expecting them to have sent representatives, but it’s actually them. As usual for the beginnings of these meetings, I struggle with the decision on whether I should hug them because they’re my parents, or if I should punch them because of how weird they’ve made me.

     For once, I choose neither. I just stand in the doorway to wait for them to say what they have to say. My mother watches me. Her half-hopeful expression is completely out of place. Father has a similar look, but at the same time he seems just as cold as usual. Mother stands and approaches me.

     “Are you awake?” She asks, stopping a few feet away. I stare blankly, aware of that horrible sickness rising from my gut once again. She takes another step forward, and I take one back. Something’s wrong.

     “Is it that shocking?” I try to keep my voice level. “How long was I sleeping?”

     “16 years.”

     I almost pass out. That’s impossible. “Mom?” I meet her eyes, which she’s sort of trying to avoid. “There’s no way I’ve been sleeping for that long.”

     She freezes. After a few seconds of silence, she slowly straightens up and turns to Father. “You were wrong,” she practically spits at his feet. “‘Oh, this is it, she’s remembering,’ you filthy excuse of an incubus. Nothing of the sort is happening, and you-”

     At this point, I lose grasp of the conversation. The pain behind my eyes is growing steadily, making it hard to concentrate on anything. I rub at my eyes, trying to release the pressure. My mom’s voice blares, I can’t sort through it to hear what she said, though. I feel like I can’t breathe.

     Suddenly, the pressure is gone. The pain, the disorientation, the exhaustion, all gone. I’m suddenly so cold that I’m shivering. I slowly pull my hands from my face and open my eyes, finding myself on the floor. I hear squealing from above, a very excited sound. There’s whispering above, and I sit up.

     My parents, far from the small wave of irritation from a moment before, are giving me the most excitement laden look of awe I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen so much emotion from either of them, and now they’re both staring at me like I’m flying.

     “What?” I slowly stand. They both kneel, as if I’m some sort of royalty. I take a small step back. “If this is a joke, or something, it’s not funny at all,” I tell them, trying to keep my voice steady.

     Father raises his head. “Do you not know who you are?”

     Rage. My eyes narrow. How _dare_ he? “Who I am? Who I _am_?” I approach until I’m standing above him. I kneel to his level. “Of course I know who I am. I am ‘Alyssa Showman, daughter of Muriel and Damon Showman. Elusive teen, only showing for photoshoots.’” I rise, watching them. “I am what you made me, and I’m leaving.”

     For the second time, I’m stopped mid-turn. There is a mirror next to the door, and my muscles lock up one by one when I see it. What happened to my eyes? I run to the mirror in shock, staring at them.

     It shouldn’t be hard to meet your own eyes, but I’m having a lot of trouble coming to terms with the fact that my eyes are completely blue. Two smooth, blue, glassy orbs return my panicked stare into the mirror. And, without much delay, something else becomes apparent as well.

     I scream, and the ghostly figure of what looks like a partially decayed person that is overlayed over me follows me when I reel back, tripping on my own feet. I’m caught by a tangle of limbs, and struggle away from them in terror.

     I spin back around to face my parents, to find them with similar features. Their normal faces are still visible beneath their new visage, eyes now completely black. They meet my eyes and I, to my dismay, remember everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is when it starts to turn into a "oh my GAWD she turned her OC into an important character that would affect the canon, how DARE she" sort of thing, and I cannot argue much with that. I love the ship, this fic is basically providing backstory for future smaller fics that are cute, sad, or both.
> 
> You'll thank me one day.
> 
> This one's pretty short, sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silly spoiled girls, having weird flashback dreams.

     1992. I stand at the top of a high rise, looking down at the city below.

     The upper world, Earth, is so cold. Who would have guessed that a being used to bathing in fire would be uncomfortable in 50º chill of North America. A shocker, I know. Still, I must come to investigate the disturbance. My advisers, standing at either side of me, are still letting their dissent of me leaving my throne unattended be known.

     I tilt my head, causing the two to become silent. “If those rats scurry over my property, they’ll be destroyed as the vermin they are.”

     “And Azazel?” the one with the female suit asks. I scoff, turning completely.

     “If he steps out of line, I’ll deal with it myself.” The advisers begin speaking again, but I turn back around and walk off, on solid ground now. It takes serious power for a demon to bend space like that. I clench my fists while treading through a small home in the suburbs of some generic city, feeling that power flowing through my being. After all this time, it still gives me a rush whenever I use it.

     A small family sits at a dinner table, sharing a meal. How touching. I lean against a doorway, fixing my gaze on each of them in turn. The woman is the first to break her gaze away from the youngest occupant, catching sight of me. A grin grows on my face, while the blood seems to drain out of hers. I relish the moment that both the man and the child turn to see me.

     I’m not particularly threatening, I’m sure. A middle aged woman, leaning lazily against the wall. If I was looking at me in this situation, the worst I would expect is a menopausal breakdown. Maybe I should change soon. The thought widens my smile. I push off the wall and approach the table, clapping heavily. “Bravo,” I say. I stop behind the child, both of the older humans looking panicked.

     I lean over to whisper in the boy’s ear. “Did you really think you’d get away with it?” He turns slightly, towards me, and growls. The sound grows until his head is thrown back and his mouth bursts open, the smoke of his traveling form attempting to flee. I stand straight, giving his escape a dry frown before shooting my hand out, blocking the last half of his trail, forcing a complete stop. The pure rage that crosses me while I force my former minion back into his suit tears out a horrific growl of my own, almost a screech in its volume.

     The adults are screaming by the time the demon is back inside of the boy. A flick of my wrist sends them both against the wall, their windpipes being slowly crushed. This is between me and my so-called ‘loyal follower’.

     “Hey, Mesphistoclese,” I say. “I hear that you’ve been sending souls to a competitor of mine.” I rest a hand on his head. “Not the best hiding place I’ve seen, not from me. It might be this easy to hide from that groveling shitstain of a businessman, but there’s something you need to remember.” I lean down, once again, to whisper in his ear. “Even his sorry ass works for me.”

     I grip his hair tightly and wrap the fingers of my other hand around his shoulder. With minimal effort, I tear his head clean off. I glare at the smoke dripping from the head in distaste. “I’ll lock you up for a century or two, maybe you’ll learn your lesson then.” I pull a burlap sack covered in seal sigils from my pocket and shove the head in the bag. I free the parents as an afterthought, there’s no point in using energy to bind people like that. Seconds later, I’ve returned to the top of the high rise, much to my advisors’ relief. It’s so weird that they would be so worried about about me leaving home, they normally celebrate the idea.

     “You have a meeting waiting for you,” The male suited one says, tapping his clip board. At least he isn’t whimpering and pandering like the other one. “Azazel has come to argue his plea again.”

     I sigh, stepping through space into my throne room. “Hasn’t he humiliated himself enough?” The heat of the familiar room is comfortable, much more so than the chill above. “Why would _anyone_ just hand the throne over, especially to a piss stain like him? No one,” I drop into the throne, continuing on, “ _No one_ , would respect him as their leader like that. No. You have to  earn that shit.” They nod, as usual. The idea of replacing them comes to me more and more often as time goes on. “Little yellow-eyes can bite me if he really thinks he deserves to sit here more than me.”

     “The total number of souls pulled down here a day has risen 15% since I clawed my way up here. Do you know why?” I raise my hands up and point at myself. “This bitch right here. Am I good, or am I good?” I laugh, lounging against the arm of my seat. When the laughter dies down, I sigh and settle into a deep frown. “Send him in.”

     The advisers leave, and moments later that damned pest appears. The brat isn’t kneeling. I stare him down, watching him struggle as I force him to his knees. He may be powerful, but this is my domain. He has nothing on me here.

     “Now that you’ve decided to show me some respect,” I hiss, “Speak.”

     “It’s begun.” The two words mean nothing to me, so I wait. “The plan, the one I told you about before, it’s almost ready.

     I sigh, bored. “That’s what you said last decade. And you’ll probably say it again in 10 years time.” I rise from the throne, circling the room around him. He tracks me with those nasty mustard eyes. Disgusting. “You need result before you can make claims like that. I’m trying to ignore what is most likely a mutiny in disguise, because it _is_ a good plan. Psychic kids, freeing all of the demons, the whole shabang. However,” I pause, stopping just in front of him, standing over this idiot is right where I belong. “You seem to be asking for more and more. More time, more power.” I drop to his level, drilling my narrowed blue eyes into his yellow ones. “It’s almost like you’re trying to overthrow me.”

     He remains silent, as he should, and nods. I let him up and wave a hand, dismissing the idiot. Next time he tries to come in here to give me an ‘update’ without result, he’s going to be leaving with a need for a new meatsuit. I rub a tired circle into my forehead, returning to my throne and flopping back into it.

     One of the advisers push into the room once again. I let out a low growl. “What?”

     She hurries forward, her knees hitting the floor half a yard from my feet. “Were you expecting another visitor today?” She asks quickly. I unfold myself, regrettably, out of my seat once again with a sigh.

     I stride toward the door. “Who the hell is it?”

     “I’m not certain. They are very insistent.”

     I roll my eyes and stand. Brushing past her, I glance back before pushing the door open. “Get the hell up, it’s disgusting.” I step through the door, and a sudden shock of pain courses through my being. Like a vacuum, I’m sucked from the body I’m inhabiting and off to who knows where.

     It takes a moment after the swirling confusion settles before I realize where I am.

     A baby. I’m in a baby. I try to leave, but something damaged me much worse than I previously thought. I search the area, finding the problem. I’ll have you know that I do not make a habit of possessing small children, it’s not practical at all. Adult humans, occupied or not, are huge from this perspective, so it takes me a moment to really see the figure standing over me.

     The demon standing above me seems awfully sure of herself with her fully grown body. I’m almost offended, if not a little underwhelmed. I’ve sort of been expecting something like this from someone lately. It’s not uncommon to be overthrown in the land of demons, after all.

     “I don’t see why you made it.” She says, rising from a stool. “You got to the top of the food chain without even trying.” Not true. “You obviously don’t deserve it, not the way you’ve been leading us.”

     She starts pulling herbs and other shit out of some cabinets around the room. A spell? What?

     “Now, I don’t want to kill you, you could be useful later.” I try to yell at her, but it only comes out as a screech. Goddamn babies, talking doesn’t work worth shit. The crazy chick measures each item slowly, deliberately, all while going on and on about her bullshit spell. “I think you’ll probably recognize this spell, but it’s a little different. You’ll be sleeping for a long, long time.” She laughs, giving me a cocky smirk. “You might as well be human!” When there’s only one item left to drop in, she belts out some phrase that I elect to ignore.

     I wonder for a moment just how long she expects me to stay down with my advisers always breathing down my neck. They’ll wake me right the fuck up immediately, I’m sure. Unless she took that into consideration too, I guess.

   She meets my eyes with feigned sympathy and drops the ingredient into her bowl. “Goodbye, Alyssa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow looky here, I actually updated on the day I'm supposed to be updating on.
> 
> Anyways, this is just past stuff that is probably lame and it probably gonna turn people off from reading this even more but hey! This isn't even all that important really!! The details aren't at least, but the general idea of it is. Alyssa = demon. She, of course, didn't know that she was a demon but u know.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my half of a collab I'm doing with my broooo, Brennan. If I can't get him to make his own AO3, I'll post his half. I'll probably post more having to do with Alyssa because I lOVE her so much. Alyssa is my OC and Mickey is Brennan's OC. I'm like 8 chapters in right now, and will probably post about once a week.
> 
> This fic takes place around s5, I think. Just an FYI thing.
> 
> I'm so sorry, I promise that I'll write not OC fanfics soon. At least it isn't an OC/Main Character fic, you feel me?


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